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“Give that to me.” I closed the distance between us in a couple of seconds. “You don’t know anything about her.”
“I’ve been talking to her and writing to her for more than a year.” Giusy was animated now, revving up to her preferred tempo. “We FaceTimed and chatted for hours. I may have talked to her more than you did since you were so busy when she needed someone the most.”
A low blow and she knew it. I wanted to lunge at her, to make her take those words back, mostly because I knew there was truth in them. “Stop it. I was always there for her.” The lies we tell others. The lies we tell ourselves. “So you talked and FaceTimed. She was just a part of your plan. You found an old woman an ocean away and preyed on her?”
Giusy shook her head. “She found me. I did this for her. I did this for my cousin Rose.”
I took the bait.
“What are you talking about, Giusy?”
“Your aunt Rosie first found me through one of those DNA sites that locates your relatives for you. She found me because I was also her relative.”
As I thought back to what I knew about my family tree, Giusy filled in the holes.
“Rosie wasn’t your great-grandfather’s daughter. She was the child of an affair with Marco Domenico, the mayor of this town, the husband of Serafina’s best friend. She was able to pass her off as your great-grandfather’s and get her to America, but everyone here knew the truth. That’s why Agata gave me her diary. I am related to Marco. This hotel, it was once his home.”
“And Aunt Rosie knew this?”
“I told her almost everything I knew about how we were related, about the affair. I told her everything except about the murder of Serafina. She was unwell and I did not think she could handle that. I promised her that I would do more research and that I could tell her things in person, and then eventually, when she knew she would not make it, I promised I would tell you and help you however I could. But for so long she hoped she would get better and that she could bring you here with her, that we could all drink negronis together, is what she said. She told me you and I were very much alike. That’s when she sent me the magazine article about you, and I was so proud to be related to you, cousin. I thought, this is a woman like me, a woman who wants more from her life. And then those Arabs came around looking to buy the land. I told Rose about that too, about how my male cousins would take it. She told me I shouldn’t let that happen, that I needed to stand up for myself, stick my tits out and show them who was boss.”
Stick your tits out was a classic Aunt Rose instruction, one she’d been giving me since before I even hit puberty. Giusy was telling the truth.
“So I did this for her and for us. I would like you to believe me, but if you don’t I still did what I promised her I would do. I helped you and I gave you an adventure. And you will go home with enough money to fix your life.”
“Do you want me to thank you?”
“I want you to respect me,” came Giusy’s sharp reply.
“I have absolutely no lack of respect for you.” I said this honestly. I didn’t forgive her, but she would always have my respect.
She lowered her voice and her gaze. “None of this was an accident or fate. I did this. Let me enjoy it. I have been underestimated my entire life.”
I knew something about being underestimated and I also knew I wasn’t going to let it happen again.
“How much are you making off the sale of your cousin’s land, Giusy?”
She seemed surprised by the question, but she clearly wanted to brag about her good fortune.
“It looks like a million.”
I took a deep breath and channeled my late aunt. I stuck my tits out.
“Then I want my cut. What is it? Ten percent. Or was I supposed to give you twenty percent if you helped me sell my land. I’d say I helped you out quite a bit by getting rid of Nino. I’ll settle for fifteen percent of your million, in addition to what I sell my land for, because face it, Giusy, you couldn’t have done it without me and there are plenty of people I can talk to in the embassy about exactly what happened last night.”
Giusy wasn’t the only one who deserved respect.
She stretched out a long curl and let it spring back into place. “I will give you what you deserve.” Then she reached beneath the bed. I flinched. Was she going for a gun because I asked for the money? My entire body tightened and I lunged toward the door. She cackled at my fear. “That is probably fair for you to get some of my money.” She stretched out her hand to give me the thing she’d reached for. Serafina’s diary.
“I knew that you took it from my house. I have cameras, you know. But it should be yours. You can keep it.”
“Give it to Agata for her research. I know Agata took some of the pages out, but some are still missing. Did you take them?”
She bristled with indignation at my question. “Not very many.”
“What was on them?”
“Just stories I liked to read. The ones about Serafina’s relationships with the women in town. The things they did to help one another, all the little things they did to fight against the, how do you like to say it in America? The patriarchy? Those women were a force. They ran this town. That is what Agata studies, the women who work and live just beneath the surface of history. The women whose stories are never told. The women like Serafina. The women like us. I like reading them because it reminds me of the time when women ruled. I am sad that the period was so short; that the women were forced to join their husbands in America, or the husbands returned and took away their new power. But I believe times are changing. And I believe women will rule again.”
